A PARADISE OF FERNS. 35 



Now, as we go downwards, we pass over a tiny 

 stream crossed by a rude bridge ; and here over- 

 head the tangled bushes again meet, throwing on 

 bridge and stream a dark shadow. Down almost 

 by the water's edge, revelling in the moist and 

 shady situation, are growing innumerable little 

 tufts of the Scaly Spleenwort (Asplenium ceterack}. 

 The Scaly Spleenwort is in truth a most lovely 

 little plant. The upper surface of the simple saw- 

 edged frond is dark green ; its texture is like 

 velvet. Underneath, the surface of the frond is 

 completely swathed in rich brown scales, where, 

 snugly hiding, lie the spores. 



Here, as we reach the end of this charming 

 green lane, the exquisite grace and the exceeding 

 loveliness of the scene appear to blend in one 

 harmonious whole. We lean over the rude parapet 

 of the bridge. Trees above us cast a cool shade 

 upon all round and underneath them. Gurgling 

 and sparkling along below us the brook babbles on 

 its way ; now foaming in playful fancy over its tiny 

 stones ; now smoothly resting in mimic pools ; now 

 rushing down in a miniature cascade, as its bed 



